


The Way of the Warrior

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 09:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If Jack O'Neill thought he could come waltzing back into her life without some big-time groveling, well, he was sadly mistaken."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way of the Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Linz for her support, encouragement and wonderful beta. You actually made doing the editing fun. ;-) For Maria.
> 
> Originally posted September 2004.

THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR

Sam watched in numb confusion while the Colonel walked away from her, his curt words ricocheting in her brain. _"What do you want me to do? He's gone. We've got work to do."_ She'd wanted to talk to him in private, but he kept avoiding her. So she'd finally worked up the courage to confront him wherever she could—which had unfortunately been a well-traveled corridor in the SGC—and he had brushed her off. No, it was more than that; he had completely dismissed her and her feelings. She turned and headed toward her lab, so lost in her chaotic thoughts that she ran into Siler. 

"Careful there, ma'am." 

A strong hand on her arm steadied her and she forced herself to focus on surroundings, the familiar door of her lab looming just beyond Siler. Thank god, she was almost there. "Thanks, Sergeant," she mumbled, slipping past him and into the sanctuary of her lab. Careful not to slam the door behind her, she closed it quietly and did something she never did—she locked it. She leaned against the door for a moment, fighting the relief that filled her. A feeling that only temporarily blocked the other emotions coursing through her, a terrifying combination of love, fear, dread and grief. 

Walking unsteadily to her desk, she slumped down into her chair. Why was he shutting her out? Especially now, after everything.... She hadn't wanted to even acknowledge the mocking whispers in her brain, the sly but insistent voice that had been tormenting her ever since the evening of Daniel's death when she had waited for Jack...and he hadn't come. It was like the two weeks preceding the accident had never occurred—the two weeks since a casual dinner invitation on her part had become one of the defining moments of her life and they'd become lovers. 

_She looked at the five steaks thawing on her counter. Daniel had just called and begged off, his arm was still hurting him. She suspected there was more to it than that, he had been distant ever since the whole incident with Reese, but she wasn't too worried, he'd eventually talk to either her or Teal'c about what was bothering him. Teal'c could put away an enormous amount of food, but even she had to doubt whether he'd be able to eat four ten ounce New York Strips. She could call the Colonel...._

_Picking up her cell phone and punching in his number before she could change her mind, Sam called O'Neill and invited him over. He accepted, much to her surprise...and pleasure._

_The food had been good, the company pleasant. Any awkwardness Sam felt at having invited the Colonel over quickly faded with his casual manner and undemanding presence. Even when Teal'c left early, she hadn't been bothered, the two glasses of wine leaving her pleasantly relaxed. O'Neill had plopped down on the sofa next to her, beer in hand._

_"So, why the dinner invitation, Sam?"_

_It still sounded odd to her, to hear him call her 'Sam', but he'd been doing it ever since he'd walked in the front door. She tried to suppress the frisson that persisted in chasing up her spine each time she heard him use it. "Well," she stalled, wondering how much to tell him. "Daniel was supposed to come, but his arm was still aching, I guess. And I knew Teal'c and I would never be able to eat all the steaks..."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "So, I'm just a substitute for Daniel?"_

_"No, of course not," she burst out, before she saw the teasing glint in his eyes. His subsequent smile sent more shivers up her spine. Emboldened by it, her lips curved in an answering smile and she murmured, "I can't imagine you being a substitute for anyone, Jack." His eyes darkened, his smile faded and she wondered if she'd gone too far._

_"Is that right?" he drawled, setting his beer down. Fingers still slightly damp from the bottle lightly traced her lips. "So why didn't you invite me to begin with?" His fingers trailed lightly down her throat, skimming along the neckline of her blouse._

_She could barely put the words together to reply to him. "I wasn't sure if you'd come or not, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."_

_"Have I ever said no to you, Sam?"_

_Her mind was blank, his touch driving every coherent thought out. She finally managed to shake her head._

_He leaned closer to her, his hand sliding to her nape and his lips just brushing hers. "Don't say no to me now."_

Whatever she had planned to say to him that fateful night had been lost beneath his kiss. If she was surprised at how easily she'd give into him, she'd blocked it from her mind and let him sweep her away in a frenzy of unrestrained passion. She hadn't questioned it—or him. She'd simply accepted the desperation that drove her to accept whatever of himself he would share with her.

God, had it only been two weeks since their fateful mission to Kelowna? It seemed like it had been an eternity now, since Daniel's accident—and since Jack had held her in his arms. She stifled a ragged laugh, she'd been stupid and naïve and she thought she'd made so much progress. The day before their scheduled departure, he had finally stayed the entire night, instead of getting up and leaving after a brief moment of post-coital cuddling. Not that she had ever complained. The sex was great; he always made sure she achieved a mind-blowing orgasm, so she had tried to ignore the niggling doubt that haunted her regarding her lover's too controlled and calculated response. More time, she had told herself, they just needed more time. And then...this. She missed Daniel so much and the man she loved wouldn't give her the time of day, much less any comfort. 

She'd obviously been deluding herself into thinking he might come to love her. Oh, she knew he wanted her and desired her. And she had hoped her love would be enough until his barriers dropped low enough for him to realize that he loved her. Whatever progress she'd made at reaching to the hidden core of Jack O'Neill had vanished. She choked back a sob of despair; Daniel's death might have succeeded in doing more damage to their relationship than any Air Force regulations ever could. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The metal of the gun barrel was smooth and cool beneath his fingers, his movements sure and automatic from years of practice. He reassembled his weapon without conscious thought, his hands automatically fitting the pieces together. The routine was familiar and should have been soothing. Except he wasn't soothed. He could hear her voice from the flight deck. _"Please, Teal'c. Don't give me that `way of the warrior' crap. I get enough of that from Colonel O'Neill."_ He'd stopped listening then—to the pain, the hurt, the confusion and the anger. 

She didn't like how he dealt with things? Big fucking deal. She'd have to get over it, just like he was going to get over it. Only it wasn't as easy as it had been in the past, because somehow she had found her way past barriers that had been there so long, he wasn't even aware of them anymore. He had been so arrogant; sure he could keep his emotions safely locked away, only letting her in when he wanted and only giving so much of himself to her. And he had deluded himself into think it had worked, until now, until Daniel's death had left them all raw and bleeding. So he had walked away from her. He'd started walking from the moment Daniel died and he'd kept going, in spite of the pain in her eyes, the pleading in her voice and the desperate need he had in him.

He looked down at his gun, his mind traveling back to a time when he'd held another weapon. No, he wasn't suicidal. But sometimes it would be so easy to just put it all behind him. The war that would never end, the regulations that strangled him more and more everyday, the want and need that never faded but merely grew stronger with each kiss, each touch. Maybe Daniel was better off? Jack didn't know, and right now it didn't really matter. He'd operated true to form and done what he did best—pissed off the one person who could have helped him, and maybe more importantly, whom **he** could have helped.

It was easier to avoid her on base, so he hadn't gone home after everything that had happened. He knew she had once, on the day that Daniel had died. And he imagined she had waited for him. But he didn't go to her. He hadn't let himself seek the comfort and oblivion of her arms, her body. He told himself it was because he didn't need her that way, he didn't need anyone to help him 'get over' his grief. He couldn't need her that way; he wouldn't let himself need anyone that way...even Sam. But that didn't explain the guilt he felt when he sensed her eyes on him. Or the pain that filled him when he woke hard and aching, and wanted nothing more than to sink into her soft body. 

Except she wasn't there, he couldn't let her be there. She'd already gotten into him deeper and harder than any woman since Sara. Feelings that he thought he'd buried deep with his son filled him every time she smiled at him, touched him or cried his name in endless ecstasy. He had lost men before, stay in the military long enough and it happens. You deal and move on. Losing Daniel had hit him hard, but it hadn't destroyed him. Losing Charlie had come close to destroying him. But he knew with bone-deep certainty that losing Sam would destroy him completely. 

She had crept in under his radar and he had forgotten the most important thing life had beat into him—don't get involved. Jack wasn't even sure why he'd finally given into the attraction between them. He couldn't lay the blame at on any earth-shattering life or death incident; it was merely the accumulation of all the small things over the last few years that had finally eroded through his self-control. It was always the little things that got you in the end. He could only blame himself for the moment of weakness when her smile had ignited the smoldering desire that lay banked deep inside him.

_"Don't say no to me now."_

_Later, he would tell himself he had offered her the choice, but he knew she didn't stand a chance. The ache for her that burned in his gut hadn't lessened in the months following their 'agreement' to lock up their feelings. If anything, the constant denial had only allowed his desire to burn hotter. She had unwittingly offered him the opportunity to assuage his desire; even though he feared that once would never be enough._

_Once her mouth opened beneath his and he sensed her capitulation, he seduced her with care and determination. He kissed her with deep, drugging kisses, not giving her the opportunity to think or protest. His hands made quick work of her blouse and bra, her skin remarkably soft beneath his caressing fingers._

_She had been sweetly willing, her eagerness tinged with just the slightest bit of caution. "Jack, are you sure?" she asked breathlessly, her hand closing over his, where it rested on her breast._

_He didn't lie to her, but he didn't tell her the whole truth either. "Yes," he muttered, rubbing his thumb over her tight nipple, "I've never been more sure of anything."_

_The latent trepidation left her eyes and her incandescent smile was like taking a punch in the gut. She rose gracefully off the sofa and he took the hand she held out to him. What happened next would be forever burned into his memory. There was none of the awkwardness or hesitation he always associated with the first time with a new woman. If anything, the ease and familiarity should have warned him, but he ruthlessly ignored everything but the driving need to possess her._

_Clothing disappeared in a flurry of eager hands. He drew her down to the bed and she followed willingly, her body cradling his like she had been made for him and him alone. Aching with need, Jack boldly stroked through her slick folds, relieved to find her wet and ready. He positioned himself between her thighs and leaned over her, catching her jaw in a firm, yet gentle grip._

_"Tell me why," he demanded, shocked by the raw urgency in his voice._

_Sam's eyes darkened and he felt himself sinking into their endless blue depths. "Because I love you."_

_Something dark and primal rose up inside him and he thrust deep, sheathing himself completely in her silky depths. He was dimly aware of her soft gasp and then he felt the tension leave her body and she melted around him, her hands clutching tightly at his shoulders._

_"Yes," he groaned and started moving. He moved with power and precision, determined to secure her total surrender to him by ensuring her pleasure. It didn't take long, she was more responsive to him than he had ever dared dream and she was soon gasping his name with each inward thrust of his hips. He felt it start for her, the frantic trembling of her muscles and equally frantic cries. Pinning her beneath him, he ground his pelvis against hers and sealed her lips with his, muffling her cries of fulfillment with his deep kiss._

_Thrusting heavily into her still trembling body, he buried his face in her neck and gritted his teeth against the cry that threatened to escape even as he spilled his seed in her willing body. Even as incredible pleasure flooded through him he hazily realized he had been right, once would never be enough. If anything, the fire burned even hotter now that he knew the incredible pleasure of her body—and her love._

_Jack waited until Sam's breathing had slowed to the easy rhythm of sleep before gently easing himself out of her arms. Slowly getting out of bed, he was careful not to jostle her too much. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn't let himself give into the luxury of actually sleeping with her._

_"Jack?" Her voice was low and husky with sleep._

_He quickly buttoned his shirt and leaned down, smoothing the hair off her forehead and kissing her briefly. "Go to sleep," he murmured. "I'll be back tomorrow."_

_"Good," she murmured and smiled sleepily up at him, the love and trust in her eyes almost cutting through his defenses._

_His gut clenched and he hoped she didn't hear the faint tremor in his voice when he muttered, "Sleep tight."_

He'd made a mistake. Fuck, he'd made more than one mistake. He'd befriended Daniel, hell, he'd even confessed as much to the dying man. As for Sam, even though he'd never spoken the words, he might as well have had _I love you_ tattooed on his forehead. He hadn't wanted Daniel to die, but if anything good was to come out of his death—besides his supposed ascension—then it would serve as a grim reminder to Jack of his cardinal rules, never get involved and never- **ever** let them know how you feel. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She hated this; she hated waiting and not being with him. She hated watching the two little blips on the Asgard monitor. And even when she was there, she wasn't **really** there. Just a hologram, unable to do anything except provide a momentary distraction. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Was that what she had been for Jack? A momentary distraction? A way for him to scratch an itch? She loved him and while that might be enough for her to take the risks having a relationship with him involved, it didn't seem like it was going to be enough to make their relationship last.

"Carter?" 

She heard his voice and with a nod to Heimdall, stepped onto the dais. And she was there for him, she thought just a tad bit wildly, just like always. "This is it, sir. The shield generator room is just on the other side of that door. There are six Jaffa inside."

"Only six?"

Before she could answer, she heard the hissing sound. So did the Colonel and Teal'c. There was no time and Teal'c went down first, quickly followed by O'Neill.

"Colonel! Teal'c!"

She started to panic, frustrated by her inability to do anything except watch in helpless anguish. 

"Colonel!"

Heimdall must've sensed her alarm, because she was suddenly back in the control room and almost frantic because there was nothing she could do. No matter how hard she pleaded, she couldn't persuade Heimdall into returning her to the Ha'tak. Citing security, the most he would do was locate the two men with the bio-sensors. She followed Heimdall to the screen showing the grid of the Ha'tak. "Are you sure they're not injured?"

"Their signals remain strong. They appear to have been taken to some kind of holding cell." 

Heimdall remained annoying calm and Sam took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm, too. "Well, we've got to get them out of there."

"How?" 

Sam just stared at the diminutive alien. "I'm not sure yet."

Heimdall just kept talking; he obviously had a completely different agenda than she did at the moment. Sam followed him and tried to keep her attention focused on what Heimdall was showing her and ignore the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't lose Jack and Teal'c, too. God, but most of all, she couldn't lose Jack. She forced herself to concentrate on Heimdall; she couldn't let her personal feelings cloud her thoughts now. She had to keep her brain clear so she could do whatever Heimdall wanted and then help them. And apparently she made the appropriate comments, though later their whole conversation would be fuzzy blur, and then they were no longer in the lab. 

"I will require your assistance to adapt the stasis pods in the cargo ship's power supply."

"Alright," Sam told Heimdall, realizing quickly they were on the Tel'tak. And she would help the alien, but she had a bigger agenda. "When we're done I want you to beam me back to the lab. I'm not ready to give up on Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c just yet."

Automatically following Heimdall's instructions, Sam rearranged the power crystals in the Tel'tak, but her thoughts were on the two men in the mother ship. She loved Jack and she hated him for what he was doing to their relationship. Sam sighed and pulled the red crystal out, exchanging it for the yellow one. She wasn't going to give up on rescuing him from the Ha'tak and she wasn't going to give up on their relationship just yet either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Colonel."

"Still with us, huh?" Jack knew he sounded annoyed with her, but she should have saved herself and left. _Yeah right,_ he told himself for not the first time, _like she would ever do that._ Hell, she'd die before she left him behind, even after everything that had happened during the last few years. God knows, the smart thing would have been for her to leave, but she hadn't. And as much as he tried, he couldn't fault her; he wouldn't have left her behind either. 

"Yes, sir. Heimdall's got the cargo ship prepped and ready to go. He can remote access his transportation device and beam us straight there but we still need you to get those shields offline."

It all sounded so easy when she **said** it. "Yeah, well they took our C4. So we won't be blowing any stuff up."

"We have to find a control relay and pull the crystals. It will only take them a few seconds to switch to backups, but that should be all we need."

"Right." It seemed there was no other alternative. "Which way?"

"I'm going to have to step off the holo-pad and check the ship's schematics. Try to stay out of sight; I'll be back as soon as I can."

She winked away again and he and Teal'c continued to lurk in the cul-de-sac. So far, so good, Jack thought, no sign of any Jaffa and at least they were doing something about getting the hell of the Ha'tak. Providing Carter managed to give them the right information. 

"Come on, Carter." Almost as soon as he'd said it, she was there. The hologram Carter flickered at the end of the corridor.

"I've got it, sir. Go straight down this corridor and up two levels, I'll meet you there."

"Okay." Yet more cat and mouse to play on the Ha'tak, he thought dourly. He motioned to Teal'c and they were off. Two levels later and rounding a corridor, they finally saw Sam again. 

"Carter."

"There should be an access panel somewhere along here."

She sounded confident and Jack hoped she was right. But he was getting damn tired of the whole situation. Never mind that it had been his brilliant idea to go on the mission. "Okay, next time, I'm the hologram." 

She didn't say anything, not that he really expected her to, but she could have shown a little concern over the hopelessness of their situation. But by then they had found the panel, which slid open revealing at least two dozen crystals.

"Okay, now we just have to pick the right crystal."

"Which one?" he asked, striving for patience. The holographic Sam flickered and she turned, looking behind her. His protective instincts went into overdrive. "Carter?

"I thought I heard something," she whispered. "There's someone in here."

The familiar blue discharge of a zat suddenly surrounded Sam and she collapsed, the hologram winking away. Jack felt that oh-so-familiar pain of a knife twisting in his gut when he realized what had happened to Sam. Someone—and it wouldn't be a 'good' someone—had found Heimdall's hiding place on the planet. Dammit! There was no way in hell he was going to lose her, too. The sound of Jaffa marching in formation echoed in the hallway and Jack was almost glad they were there. At least now he had someone to vent his frustration and fear on.

The fight didn't last long; he and Teal'c took out two Jaffa each. Hell, he wasn't even breathing heavily, but his hand did hurt a little from where he punched the last one. But at least they had weapons now, and for good measure, Jack zatted the downed Jaffa. However they still had to figure out how to get the shields offline. Jack looked at the panel and then at Teal'c. 

"Perhaps we should take them all?" Teal'c rumbled.

Jack thought for a minute about Teal'c's suggestion. Fuck it, Sam didn't have a minute. "Here's a thought." Bringing his confiscated staff weapon up, Jack fired at the crystals, destroying the whole panel. _Anytime now, Heimdall,_ he thought to himself as they just stood there staring at the smoking panel. Finally, the light of the transport beam enveloped them and in an instant, they were in the Tel'tak. And, thank god, Teal'c was somehow holding Sam.

"Get us out of here," O'Neill ordered Teal'c. And surprisingly enough, Sam responded with Teal'c. As much as he wanted to assure himself that Sam was really okay, he didn't. She wouldn't want him to and so he had to trust that Teal'c would keep an eye on her. He'd find out later just what had happened.

"Well done, O'Neill."

"Thanks," he told Heimdall. He turned to the Thor, who had materialized as well and still lay confined on the slab from the Ha'tak. "Thor, buddy." 

The tiny alien opened his eyes. "O'Neill, you cannot take me with you."

"Why not?"

"The link between myself and the Goa'uld ship has not been severed. They will be able to track our position. You must leave me behind."

"All right, that doesn't work for me. That's not an option for me. Okay?" Thor and Heimdall merely blinked their dark eyes at him, which he took to be a 'yes'. 

"Punch it, Teal'c," he shouted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, it was all too ridiculously easy. Well, easy for the Asgard, who were frighteningly efficient when it came to interstellar travel. One minute they were discussing how a Tel'tak, for crying out loud, could destroy a Ha'tak and then three huge Asgard ships were there. Anubis had enough sense to leave and after a round of thank-you's from the Asgards to the Humans and vice versa, SG-1 minus Thor and Heimdall, were back at the SGC and Fraiser was shining her penlight in his eyes. Something with which **she** was frighteningly efficient. 

It also meant their post-mission briefing was over. Once Hammond had dismissed them, Sam had slipped out of the briefing room as quickly and quietly as possible. She'd barely said two words to him since their rescue by Freyer. And the two she did say were always the same, 'Yes, sir'. He knew he was being unreasonable, especially since he had brushed her off so thoroughly before their mission. He should be glad she hadn't lingered, but he wasn't. 

He wanted to be with her, needed to be with her. It wasn't just a physical need either, and that was the part that freaked him out and had sent him running the first time. Being with Sam tonight would mean more than just idle chitchat and then some fun between the sheets. It would mean letting down the barriers...and risk never getting them back up again. Which, he acknowledged wryly, explained why he was avoiding making any kind of decision and going out to dinner with Teal'c instead. 

So, Jack was surprised to see her walking down the hall towards them. She had left the briefing so fast, he figured she'd be long gone by now. On the heels of that thought, he wondered briefly what she'd been doing with Hammond. 

"Hey." 

"Hey." It wasn't much of an olive branch, but it was all he could say in front of Hammond.

"Heading home?" 

She sounded curious and hopeful. And it was the hopeful that gave him the encouragement to take a chance, even though Hammond was with her. "Actually Teal'c and I were thinking of stopping off for a bite to eat. Interested?" 

"Sounds good." 

He tried to ignore the relief that surged through him when she agreed. And then to be polite, he added, "General?" 

"You three go ahead, I've still got some work to do."

 _God bless, Hammond,_ Jack thought charitably, he'd have to make a point to not be such a pain in the ass—for a few days, at least. 

"What was that?" Sam asked, her hair ruffling in an unexpected breeze.

Teal'c looked toward the ceiling and raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps a malfunction in the ventilation system?"

"Yeah, that's probably it," Jack agreed.

"Bye sir, have a good night." 

Hammond headed back down the hallway and Jack followed Sam and Teal'c into the elevator. He smiled when the errant air conditioning ruffled through his hair. They were safely back on Earth and he was going out to dinner with his team—and just maybe he could make things right with Sam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam paced her kitchen while she waited for the hot water to boil. She stared with disbelief at her hands and willed them to stop their fine trembling as she opened the cupboard and took out her favorite mug, along with the Lemon Zinger tea. She was **not** nervous, she wouldn't be nervous about this. She didn't have any reason to feel guilty, he was the one who had refused to talk to her, and he was the one who didn't want to share his feelings. If Jack O'Neill thought he could come waltzing back into her life without some big-time groveling, well, he was sadly mistaken. She was the one who had all the control now...so why did it feel like a bevy of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach?

She paced the small area again. She could have told him no, that she didn't want to see him tonight. But, dinner had been nice and he'd been so charming. Oh, nothing too blatant, but then he never did blatant. It was all about subtlety. Never mind that sometimes the subtlety was so subtle that it was almost invisible. But she knew it was there, because that's what she excelled at, wasn't it? Anticipating, knowing what he was thinking before he did? So when he'd asked if he could come over after he'd taken Teal'c back to the base, she'd said yes, because under the guise of easy charm and team building, he was reaching out to her. Which was what she wanted, so...why was she nervous?

The whistle finally sounded on the kettle and she turned the burner off, pouring the steaming water into the mug. She idly stirred the tea bag around until the tea was just the right strength—not too strong and not too weak. Fishing the teabag out, she debated on saving it for one more use, before tossing it in the garbage. Cradling the hot mug in her hands, she blew on the steaming liquid and walked through the dark house to the front window. No sign of Jack yet. She'd only been home about twenty minutes, it would take him at least twice that long to get Teal'c delivered and then make the return trip into town.

She cautiously took a sip of the hot tea, savoring the comforting taste of the lemony herbal tea. Sighing, she stepped closer to the window, twitching the sheer curtain back and leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane. She let her eyes drift shut; she knew why she was nervous, she was nervous because this was **Jack** , and not just Jack AKA Colonel O'Neill, her commanding officer. She was nervous because, in spite of everything, he had become more than that. He was Jack—her lover and the man she loved more deeply than she had ever imagined possible. 

Sam saw the flare of headlights and then heard the muted rumble of his truck. He didn't park in front of her house, but continued around the corner to the alley and she knew he was going to park behind her house. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or pleased. That they needed to use discretion, she accepted. But parking behind the house meant he was going to stay—and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his arrogance. He was either very sure of himself, or very sure of her.

Heading back toward the kitchen, Sam set her tea on the counter and made it to the back door just as his headlights flashed into the windows. Opening the door just as he got to it, she stepped back, the chill night breeze cooling her overheated skin. 

"Hey," he said, slipping past her. Closing the door, she locked it and followed him down the short hallway. He'd draped his jacket over one of the kitchen stools and was peering into her refrigerator.

"Make yourself at home," she commented dryly. He peered up over the fridge door and grinned at her, not looking at all ashamed. 

"Thanks," he stood up and let the door swing shut, a beer in his hand. "I will." His smile was self-assured and she suddenly had to fight the urge to slap it off his face. And it didn't help her current state of mind that the only beer she kept on hand since she and Jack had become lovers was whatever brand he currently favored. The butterflies had disappeared with his first arrogant smile. She somehow managed a tight smile and picked up her tea, walking past him into the living room. 

He followed her, but she didn't sit, instead choosing to stand by the fireplace. He lounged negligently on the sofa, tipping the beer back and swallowing some down, and she was once more overwhelmed with the urge to hit him. But she didn't, she had to stay in control. If she had learned anything from her father and the male-dominated Air Force, it was how to be a cold-hearted bitch when necessary.

"I didn’t say you could come over just so you could sit on my sofa and drink my beer, **Jack**." 

His eyes narrowed with her tone and the not-so-subtle emphasis on his name. Setting his beer down, he sat up, his expression now wary...and just calculating enough that she knew he was trying to figure out the best way to handle her. Damn him, she didn't need handling. She needed to know why he was here—and she needed to know the truth.

"Don't look at me like that! Did you just think you could come over tonight and it would all be forgiven? That I would just forget about what happened before we left on this last mission?"

He picked up his beer again and took a drink. She knew he was deliberately stalling for time, so she didn't say anything, just waited. 

"Not gonna' happen, eh?"

"No." She took a deep breath, trying to control the irritation that swept through her. "I just—" she raked the fingers of her free hand through her hair. "Dammit, Jack. Don't play stupid with me now, not with this."

"Okay, I won't. So, just what is it that you want from me, Sam?"

"I just want to know that Daniel's death matters to you." 

His face had once more assumed that nonchalant look. "Of course it matters."

"That's now how you're acting!" She hadn't meant to snap at him, but it felt like he was deliberately goading her.

"What do you want me to do, Sam?" He was starting to sound irritated, but he still didn't raise his voice. "Break down and start crying, so you can hold me and comfort me? Because that's not gonna' happen."

"That's not what I want. I just want to know that you care."

"Why?" He leaned back on the sofa, resting his arms along the back cushions and looking blandly at her. "Why does it matter what I feel about Daniel?"

"Because, damn you Jack O'Neill, if you're this cold-hearted and unfeeling about Daniel's death, then what does that mean for us?"

"So this is all some kind of test?"

Dumbfounded, all she could do was stare at him. "A test? Of what? Our relationship? Because we obviously don't have one, if that's what you think."

"What I think," he drawled, taking another swallow of his beer, "is that you'd know me better by now, Carter."

"Oh believe me; I do know you, sir." She shook her head tiredly. "Or maybe not. I thought I knew enough to risk everything by getting involved with you. Seems like I was wrong about that as well. You may have only been thinking with your dick, but I was thinking with my heart." She laughed harshly, "For all the good it evidently did me. But, this isn't some test; I won't ever test you, Jack. All I want from you is honesty."

"Are you sure that's what you want, Sam? Because when I was 'honest' with Sara, after Charlie died, she couldn't handle it. Do you want me to tell you how I really feel? That I lay awake at night and wonder what I could have done different—what I **should** have done different that might have saved his life?" His voice was cool and even, but his deep brown eyes grew more and more remote. "Should I tell you that I hate Daniel because of what happened? That if he hadn't been so stinking noble and disarmed that bomb, that he would still be alive? That if for once, he would have used some common sense, he'd be alive?"

Her heart ached for him, but she couldn't let him see that—yet, so she focused on what he was saying about Daniel. "No..." she said slowly, "he was just being Daniel."

"And I'm just being me. If you can't handle that, then there's no point in continuing this conversation."

So, she couldn't test their relationship, but he could? Was this going to turn into some kind of pissing contest, where the winner won...what? Control of their relationship? He was being honest with her, it was what she wanted, and if she couldn't handle it, well, she'd be put in the same category as his ex-wife. And when it came right down to it, she loved him. She'd never made a secret of how she felt, he'd known right from the first time they'd made love. Her pride didn't matter, not when it came to the man she loved. And while he seemed reluctant, he had taken the first step toward bridging the rift in their relationship. It was up to her now.

The butterflies were back in full flight in her stomach when she set her mug down on the mantle and took the three steps that brought her to the sofa. He looked calm and relaxed, but she could sense the fine tension that had invaded his body as she'd approached. Sam dropped gracefully to her knees by his side, and if anything, the subtle tension radiating from him increased. 

She laid a gentle hand on his knee, her eyes searching his while she spoke. "I love you. You don't have to change or be anything but yourself for me. But that doesn't mean that I won't push you sometimes, or ask for more than you think you want to give. It's what having a relationship means—and that's what we have." She smiled tenderly. "It's what we've always had."

"So...I'm forgiven?" That remote look she hated had left his face, but there was still a hint of caution in his eyes.

She nodded.

"And we can go back to where we were before?"

If her heart sank a little with his question, she didn't let it show. Unconditional acceptance could really be a pain sometimes. "If that's what you want."

He straightened up then and took her hands, shifting so that she knelt between his knees. Releasing one hand, he cupped her cheek with one, large hand. "What I want is you." 

She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his hand. "You already have me."

"Then...I want your continued latitude, patience and understanding." 

"That comes along with the love."

"Ah, well, good." He looked confused and his hand fell away from her cheek. "That's it? No crying, pleading, or threats?"

"You know me better than that, Jack," she chided him gently. "I'm not your ex-wife or any of your other girlfriends." She didn't know if he'd had many other girlfriends, but that really didn’t matter. 

"No demands that I tell you that I love you?"

His confusion would be comical if she didn't know that he was deadly serious.

She shook her head. "No demands."

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment and she just smiled innocently back at him. "What if I have demands?" he drawled, his eyes going all dark and sensuous; his hands at her waist now, gently kneading.

"Such as?"

"Such as..." his voice trailed off as his face drew closer to hers,"...this," he whispered. Sam let her eyes drift shut at the first brush of his lips against hers and didn't question the relief that swept through her. Oh god, it had been so long and she had missed him so much. And it wasn't until now, when he was gently teasing her lips with his that she realized just how much. Hungry for more, she clutched at his nape with one hand and swept her tongue urgently along his still closed lips. His low chuckle vibrated against her lips and she moaned in frustration when he pulled away. 

"Jack," she protested, almost losing her balance when he suddenly stood up, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her up with him. She swayed toward him, her eyes full of confusion and longing, which quickly faded when he once more covered her mouth with his. Tugging on her arms, she tried to pull free, but he wouldn't release her, which really didn't bother her too much, since he started pulling her toward the bedroom—and continued kissing her. It was slow going, shuffling down the hall **and** keeping her mouth fused to his. But she wasn't about to stop kissing him now.

"Oomph..." Jack grunted against her lips. Her forward movement was suddenly stopped and she stumbled up against him, their mouths finally separating. Sam was confused again, but only momentarily when she focused on her surroundings and realized Jack had backed into the wall next to her bedroom door. They were so close...but what she had right now was too tantalizing. 

"Jack," she murmured, pressing closer to him. His hands had loosened on her wrists and she was only slightly disappointed that he didn't try and stop her when she slipped her hands free. Which actually suited her perfectly, because she was then able to finally satisfy her burning need to touch him. Sliding her palms up his cloth covered chest, she leaned closer and was just about to kiss him...until the slight smirk and overconfident look in his eyes once more brought forth the urge to slap him. Damn it! She loved him, but she wasn't about to let him take her for granted!

Placing her hands lightly on his shoulders, she kissed him until she felt his breath catch and his hands clutched tightly at her waist. "Easy, Jack," she murmured, catching his lower lip between her teeth and tugging slightly. He groaned and she smiled herself, in satisfaction, deftly slipping out of his arms—and reach. His brown eyes were now slightly dazed instead of smug and her smile widened even more before she turned and walked into her bedroom, leaving him standing in the hall.

She was just pulling down the comforter when she heard the rustle of clothing behind her and strong arms caught her from behind, wrapping around her like steel bands. Firm lips brushed against her neck and when she felt the sharp nip of his teeth against her tender skin, her knees sagged. His voice was a low rumble in her ear, "What the hell was that about?"

She struggled briefly in his embrace, but he held her firmly and wouldn't release her—nor would he let her turn around. "Just because I love you doesn't mean you can take me for granted," she panted. 

"Take you for granted?" His voice was incredulous and his arms did loosen enough then for her to turn around and face him. "Since when have I **ever** taken you for granted?"

"What was coming here this evening all about? Parking in the alley, taking for granted that I would let you stay?"

"'This' is about me trying to make things right with you. This is about loving you! And besides, what happened to all your 'no demands' bullshit?"

She didn't think she'd seen him this annoyed with her since he'd walked away from her in the hallway of the SGC. And even though this was the closest he'd ever come to saying he loved her, she forced herself to ignore the joy filling her heart. "There are 'demands' and there are 'requests'." 

"Are there now?" he rumbled. 

His eyes had narrowed and she felt a frisson of apprehension chase down her spine. But, she merely nodded, keeping her expression calm, and opened her mouth to reply. But the only thing to escape was a soft cry when he suddenly pulled her tightly against him, his mouth capturing hers in a devastatingly thorough kiss. 

She was barely able to stand, clinging tightly to his shoulders when he broke the kiss. "Then consider this a request," he growled, tumbling her to the waiting bed. 

Jack landed heavily on top of her, but she didn't care, eagerly spreading her legs to accommodate him, her arms wrapping around him when his mouth once more descended to hers. His mouth plundered hers and she whimpered softly, squirming against him and tugging at his shirt. He reared back suddenly, straddling her, his hands rough in their haste as he stripped off her blouse, her bra following quickly. His T-shirt went flying off next. He wasn't going slow and he wasn't even being that careful, but she didn't care. Instead she found herself swept up in his passion.

His fingers were rough and warm against her belly when he deftly unbuttoned her jeans. She eagerly lifted her hips and he swiftly pulled her jeans and panties off. Sam knew he was rapidly escalating out of control when he merely unfastened his khakis, shoving material out of the way before once more covering her with his hard body. She barely had time to process what was happening and suspected she wouldn't be completely ready for him, but she was past the point of caring. He was with her again and that was all that mattered right now.

He was hot and heavy against her; the material of his pants was rough against her inner thighs. All she could do was cling to him when she felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands and then she gasped and cried out softly when he thrust into her. Jack lay heavily on her for a moment, his chest moving rapidly against hers and his breath hot against her cheek. She clutched at his shoulders, wriggling beneath him and moaning in unexpected pleasure when he sank further into her. And then he was moving, thrusting heavily into her; each movement punctuated with a harsh groan. He shifted, catching her legs under his arms and opening her even further, going even deeper. 

Jack pounded into her and she was powerless beneath his determination. It had never been like this between them, Jack had never been so reckless—or so out of control. Sam had already accepted that there were depths to him that she would never uncover or know. She was both alarmed and exhilarated by him now and she wondered helplessly if he'd regret his loss of control once he was no longer caught up in the passion of the moment.

Her name was a harsh cry against her throat and she felt the first pulses of his orgasm when he thrust deep, grinding his pelvis against hers. She held him securely, her hands clutching tightly in his hair as he shuddered against her, filling her with his seed. His release seemed to go on forever, and as he slowly relaxed against her, she sighed softly and let herself relax as well. This was usually the time she liked the best, when he was still with her in the quiet intimacy right after they made love—and before he left. But given everything that had led up to this point, she wasn't sure what to expect at all and then he swore and her heart sank.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God, he hadn't felt this good since the last time he'd made love to Sam. All of the grief and pain since Daniel's death had faded to manageable levels the moment he was back in her arms. She was so soft and warm and inviting beneath him, he never wanted to leave her. But something hard was poking him on his knee and when he realized it was his belt buckle, reality returned with a vengeance.

"Fuck," he swore tiredly and rolled off her. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he let the shame and guilt flow through him. Shit, he hadn't taken of his pants. For god's sake, he hadn't even taken off his damn shoes! He wasn't some teenager, he was a grown man, and treating Sam like some casual fuck was not showing her how much he cared for her. 

He sat up abruptly and swung his legs over the side of the bed, putting his head down in his hands. "God, Sam," he muttered, "I'm so sorry."

There was the rustling of bedclothes behind him and he felt the mattress give when she got up. "Maybe you coming over tonight wasn't such a good idea." Her voice was low and calm, the hurt hidden behind her matter of fact tone.

"No!" He lunged across the bed, hampered by his half-dressed state, but he still managed to grab her wrist. 

Sam held her blouse up against her breasts with one hand and looked pointedly at his hand holding her wrist. He dropped her wrist instantly and stood, holding up his pants with one hand and quickly rounding the foot of the bed. She stood in front of him, wearing only her unbuttoned blouse, looking awkward and doubtful. He tried to smile reassuringly at her and fasten his pants at the same time. He was successful at the second task—at least the button was fastened and they weren't drooping around his knees—but he wasn't so sure about the first.

Jack gently took hold of one of her hand, dismayed by how cold it was. "May I make another request?"

She didn't smile, but her lips twitched and she nodded her head.

Encouraged, he took a deep breath and thanked God that she seemed to have infinite patience with him. "I know I've been a royal pain in the ass, something I accused Daniel of, by the way. And you have every right to throw me out on said ass, but if you do, you might as well just put a bullet in my brain."

"No, Jack! Don't say—"

By the look of horror on her face, he knew she'd misunderstood—or taken him literally. "No, no, I'm not talking about suicide or anything like that. Been there, didn't do that," he smiled wryly at her and she seemed to relax a bit. "I guess what I'm trying to say, with my usual lack of finesse, is that while I could live without you, it wouldn't be a life worth living."

The hand he wasn't holding rose to his face, her touch a tender caress on his cheek. "Well, I'm not sure that's true, but thank you."

Grasping her hand, her turned his face and placed a lingering kiss on her palm. Locking his eyes with hers, he spoke with a conviction that even surprised him. "I love you. God knows, I won't ever tell you often enough, but always know that you are the most important person in my life." He laughed softly. "Hell, you're more important than anything in my life." He held both her hands then, searching her face. "I'm never going to be a 'hearts and flowers' kind of guy, but never doubt my love."

"Is that a request?" Her beautiful blue eyes were a shy mixture of wonder and uncertainty that tugged at his heart. For all her confidence, she was just as uncertain as he had been. 

"No, consider it a demand," he replied and pulled her into his arms. She melted against him and Jack knew everything was going to be all right. Oh, he wasn't stupid and knew they still had major obstacles to overcome, but the SGC and the rest of the world were minor concerns as long as he had her love. But right now, he needed to make up for their earlier lovemaking, because even though she was the most generous lover he'd ever had, he'd been less than charitable to her.

Spanning her back with his hands, he slowly lowered his head to hers. Her eyes lashes fluttered shut at the last moment and then his lips were on hers. So soft and gentle this time, he teased her lips carefully with fleeting touches and delicate strokes with his tongue. Sam sighed softly into his mouth and he smiled briefly before deepening the kiss. His hands weren't idle either, stroking up and down her back, fingers dancing lightly along her spine. She shivered delicately with his caresses and he traced a leisurely path down her spine before gliding his fingers along her ribs and grasping the still open edges of her blouse.

Ignoring her small whimper of protest when he pulled back, he slipped her blouse off, turning the whole process into one long caress as he stroked the smooth flesh revealed. "No," he murmured gently, when she lifted her arms and a small frown crossed her face until he kissed her swiftly and urged her back onto the bed. Her smile turned seductive then and she lay back on the bed, scooting to the middle and then languidly stretched, her eyes never leaving his. 

Thank god he'd just finished making love to her, because if he'd been capable, the look in her eyes would have had him inside her immediately. His lips curved into a slow smile as he drank in her beauty, because whether she realized it or not, this time was all for her. He just looked at her, never taking his eyes off her as he kicked his shoes off and this time, let his pants and boxers drop to the floor. Crawling onto the bed with her, he paused long enough to pull his socks off and propped himself up on his side next to her. Smiling lazily down at her, he urged her legs apart and stroked his hand in a leisurely caress up the inside of her thigh.

"Jack?" 

"Hmm?" He glanced at her, seeing the question in her eyes and hearing it in her voice.

"Don't worry about me, Sam," he murmured roughly, reaching out and caressing her cheek. "This is for you."

Her eyes flashed with understanding and such a deep love that he felt momentarily weak. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd done to deserve her, but at this point, he was beyond questioning it. "I love you so much," he whispered, not the least surprised at the slight tremor in his voice and corresponding tremble in his hand as he brushed her hair back off her forehead.

"Twice in one night?" she teased, her voice now quietly confident and full of love.

"Just don't expect it to become a habit. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

She raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"Oh, you know, big bad-ass Air Force colonel, Goa'uld killer and all that jazz."

"Uh huh, I see."

"It would ruin my image with the System Lords if they suspected I'd gone all soft and mushy over some woman."

"Right, I get it—that 'way of the warrior' crap." She said it lightly, but he saw the remnants of remembered hurt in her eyes. 

His eyes darkened and he turned serious. "I'm sorry I blew you off when you wanted to talk about Daniel."

"You heard me talking to Teal'c?" She looked annoyed, but kind of relieved as well.

"Yeah," he confessed. "I was just...confused, I guess." God, it was now or never and he at least owed her an explanation. "Losing Daniel made me realize how much I have to lose now." He sighed, "And I reacted with my tried and true method of ignoring it and ended up pushing away the one person I care about." 

She murmured something low that he didn't understand but that still comforted him. And her eyes still radiated that mysterious blend of love and understanding that continued to confuse and amaze him. Shit, she deserved so much better, but he wasn't about to tell her that, so he found himself telling her the truth instead. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," he murmured.

"You're not going to lose me for a very long time," she replied, her voice fierce. 

He smiled at her determination. "In our line of work, who can say? But I'm not so dense that I'm going to deny myself the one thing in my life that gives it meaning."

Jack thought he was beyond any surprises with Sam, but when her eyes filled with tears, he was astonished. "Don’t cry," he murmured, "it's not that bad."

"Oh, you idiot," she sniffled, giving him a watery smile. "I'm crying because I'm happy."

Even if he lived to be a hundred, Jack knew he'd never get the whole 'tears of happiness' thing. But he was glad to discover that he could do the sensitive guy thing. "I'm glad you're happy, 'cause I'd hate to see what would happen if you were sad." 

She laughed, like he had hoped, and then waved her hand vaguely in the air by his head. "I need a tissue."

Jack looked around and spotted a box on the bedside table. Reaching over her, he grabbed one. "Here," he said, stuffing it into her hand. He waited patiently while she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. 

She gave him a slightly chagrined look when she was finished. "Sorry, didn't mean to kill the romantic mood."

Jack smirked at her. "So, I was being romantic?"

"Jack," she said, her tone amused—and thank god, full of love. "I consider any declaration of affection from you romantic."

"Ah," he replied, not sure if he'd just been insulted or not. But he didn't really care; her sparkling eyes told him she was happy with him.

"Now, where were we?" she drawled, running her fingers lightly across his collarbone and raking her nails delicately down his chest.

"Oh," he replied, feathering the fingers of his left hand across her firm belly and lightly teasing the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. "Right about here..." he murmured, stroking his fingers down through her curls. He trailed his fingers on down the inside of her thigh then, coaxing her into bending her knees. 

"More," he urged quietly. She let out a ragged breath, but did as he asked and he shifted with her when she let her knees fall sideways down onto the bed. He rose over her then and he saw eyes drift shut when he began leaving a trail of kisses down her throat. He lingered at her breasts, taking his time and teasing the rosy peaks into hard nubbins with his mouth and his hands. She whimpered his name softly when he eventually released her breast from the hot suction of his mouth. 

"Easy," he murmured, easing over her until he knelt between her spread her legs. His breath caught as he gazed down at her, so open and trusting for him—just for him. The urge to touch her was too strong and he followed his instincts, stroking and petting her. Starting at her shoulders, he slowly ran his hands down her body in long, caressing strokes. She moaned quietly, arching into his touch and he smiled tightly, pleased with her response.

He varied the pressure and touch, watching her responses, sometimes using his whole hand in broad sweeping strokes, other times, just his fingertips. Her skin was so warm and while she was firmly toned, she was also invitingly soft. Narrowing his area of focus, Jack concentrated his efforts on the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and belly, coming closer—but never quite touching—her tempting center. She seemed to like what he was doing, if her shallow breaths and sinuous movements on the bed were any indication. 

Evading an attempt on her part to grab his hand and guide his actions, Jack casually caught her wrists with one hand. She raised her head up off the pillow and glared crossly at him.

"Do you want me to stop?" he rumbled. The look that flashed in her eyes told him what she really wanted was to tell him where he could go—and it wasn't a good place. 

"Well?" he prodded, finally cupping her mound with his free hand and pressing gently.

"No," she moaned, letting her head fall back on the pillow. He released her hands and she let them drop to her sides.

"That's better," he murmured soothingly.

"Just you wait," she mumbled, still sounding irritable.

A wide grin split his face. "Promises, promises," he teased.

He couldn't hear what she muttered under her breath and decided that was just as well. But he did hear her say, "Jack," on a husky breath that held just a hint of pleading. And when she rotated her pelvis against his hand, he got the message.

She was slick and damp from their earlier lovemaking, his fingers sliding easily through her folds. His touch was light as he delicately caressed her, and she moaned his name again before he finally relented and began lightly rubbing her clitoris. She obviously approved, her pelvis continuing to move with his touch. But it wasn't enough.

"No, don't stop," she whimpered, when he drew his hand slowly away.

"Don't worry, baby. I’m not," he rumbled, scooting lower on the bed and once more urging her legs further apart. 

"Yes," she groaned, her whole body shuddering when he fastened his mouth on her hot flesh. Applying himself with a single-minded determination to bring her as much pleasure as she had so unselfishly given him, Jack was totally focussed on the woman beneath his hands...and his mouth. Even the minor distractions of her breathy cries and the hand clenched tightly in his hair didn't bother him in the least. If anything, her eager response only reinforced his resolve.

With infinite care and patience, Jack made love to Sam. Caressing and kissing her, stroking and sucking until she was writhing languidly beneath his touch. Isolating her clitoris with his mouth, he sucked insistently and her soft wail of pleasure when he stroked one finger deeply into her conveyed her pleasure at his efforts. Deftly sliding a second finger into her silky depths, her hips bucked against him and she groaned his name.

"Jack, yes...Jack!" She cried out sharply and Jack felt the first fine tremors of her orgasm starting, her muscles clenching rhythmically around his fingers. Holding her hips steady with an arm low across her abdomen, he continued to suck her clitoris, riding out the powerful waves of her orgasm. She seemed to vibrate against him for an eternity, her soft cries gradually diminishing until she lay quiet beneath him. Giving her one last gentle kiss, he carefully removed his fingers. 

Sam sighed raggedly and he crawled up her body. Easing onto his side next to her, he enfolded her in his arms and held her while the last tremors of her released faded. She nestled into his embrace, her breath still catching as random shivers coursed through her. 

"Good?" he murmured against her ear, nuzzling her hair. He figured he already knew the answer, but he still wanted to hear her say it.

"Mmm," she murmured and he felt her head moving against his shoulder. "Very good." She shifted onto her back and Jack looked down at her. She looked luminous and very satisfied. He could identify with the feeling. She smiled up at him. "In fact, if I didn't think it would make you insufferable to be around, I'd tell you it was perfect.'

His smile widened. He liked that, but then he frowned. Did that mean all the other times had been less than perfect? "So, what about all the other times? They weren't good?"

She laughed softly, which he thought was quite insensitive of her. "No," she told him, "they were good, too. This was just good in a different way."

Well, yeah...he'd never made love to her this way before, but he was pretty sure she meant something else. "Because?" He let his voice trail off, toying with a strand of her hair while waiting for her reply.

"Because you let me in."

"Ah," he nodded. "You know I don't like all that 'touchie-feelie' crap."

"I know, Jack."

"Good, just so long as you do." 

Her smile was smug and Jack knew she hadn't believed him. In an attempt to salvage some of his self-respect, he added. "But not with you, you're different."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You understand about how it is, with guys like me."

"The way of the warrior?" She said it gently, with none of the animosity of that overhead conversation. 

And after all the crap he'd put her through, Jack knew without a doubt that she did understand—and still loved him anyway. Pulling her back into his arms, he held her tightly, almost overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion that ran through him. "The way of **this** warrior."

THE END


End file.
